Hero Worship
by irishhair
Summary: Flight of the Conchords: Bret goes to a bar with Dave to find a girlfriend, but finds himself with a bit of a crush instead. Jemaine, is less than impressed. Bret/Jemaine onesided Bret/Dave SLASH
1. Chapter 1

"You should come, Jemaine. It'll be fun!" Bret smiled at him.

Jemaine scowled.

"It's my mum's birthday," he muttered

"Isn't your mum's birthday tomorrow?" Bret asked

"Well, here it'll be her birthday tomorrow, but it's her birthday today in New Zealand. I have to wait until she's back from her surprise party that aunty Sheila's throwing her at the bowling alley to call her"

"Can't you call her when you get back?" Bret asked with his eyes flicking towards the door.

He clearly was going out, Jemaine or no Jemaine. Bret had been starting to feel the need for a girlfriend recently. It came and went. Just the feeling that it would be nice to have someone around to write songs about and eat lunch together and cuddle and kiss. He needed to find a girlfriend fast, before he started getting antsy and annoying Jemaine by hanging around him all the time. Again.

"I'll get drunk and forget. If I forget, she'll never forgive me. When my first child is born, she'll tell it about the time I forgot her birthday when I was getting drunk in America," Jemaine ranted, waving his hands and knocking over a mug.

"I'll remind you," Bret said hopefully

"No you won't. You're looking for a girlfriend, how are you going to remember?" Jemaine replied bitterly.

That was odd, he hadn't told Jemaine he was going to look for a girlfriend. It must show in his aura or something. But Jemaine wasn't a pychic. He didn't think. Better ask to be sure.

"Hey Jemaine, are you a pyschic?" he asked suddenly

"Just leave, Bret," Jemaine sighed.

xxx

Dave was coming with him, at least. He wasn't the same as going with Jemaine, he wouldn't understand most of what he said for one, but it was better than going to find a girlfriend alone. Dave was wearing a leather jacket and a bandana. Maybe he should have asked him what he should wear before he came out.

"Dave, is what I'm wearing alright?" he asked seriously

Dave gave him a Look.

"Can you stop being a girl for five minutes?" he said after a pause

"Should I call about what to wear next time we go out?" Bret asked plucking at his tiger t-shirt

"Apparently not," Dave muttered under his breath, "You're fine the way you are. Chicks dig that awkward nerdy thing you got goin on," he continued

"I've got a thing going on?" Bret asked, puzzled.

And then he thought about Jemaine singing to him. His chest felt tight and his stomach dropped out of his trainers. Better get a girlfriend, quickly.

xxx

It wasn't going well. Most of the girls here weren't all that interested in him and the ones that were seemed to think that he was too cute to be good boyfriend material. This was why it was better finding girlfriends with Jemaine. He was somehow much more attractive to woman when he was with Jemaine.

Being with Dave threw them a bit. On his own, Dave worked the bastard-who-was-actually-just-really-lonely angle, but with Bret have a centimetre from his left elbow, this didn't fly with the savvier prospective belt notches. And when girls were taken in my Bret's open, innocent charm, they noticed that his friend was talking about women like pieces of meat, and thought that the it was an act. They just weren't compatable wingmen.

Bret sipped his fizzy water through a straw and daydreamed, when someone crashed into him. He coughed and half the carbonated water flooded his sinuses. The other half spilled down his t-shirt

"Watch it," he choked, before looking up at the guy who'd bashed into him.

He was wearing studded leather from head to toe and had enormous steel toecapped boots. Tatooed across his neck was "cut here" and he had "hate" and "shit" across his knuckles. A hell's angel. Oh flip.

"_You _watch it, you Australian faggot!" the biker snarled at him.

Bret cowered and found him self saying, with no prompting from his brain whatsoever,

"New Zealand, actually"

At the same moment, however, Dave came storming over.

"Hey! Shithead! That's my friend you're talking to!" said Dave, in that special American if-you're-lookin'-for-trouble-you-_found_-it-pal tone of voice.

With no further ado, he punched the scary motorcyclist in the ear and kicked him. He then grabbed Bret's hand and dragged him off, at a run.

As Bret sprinted out of the club, hand in hand with Dave, he found his insides squirming and his adreneline pulsing through his veins. Somehow, he forgot completely about wanting a girlfriend.

xxx

"You should have been there, Jemaine, it was fantastic! This guy called me an Australian faggot and then Dave just took him out. He was incredible!"

Bret's excited rendition of the evening was getting more and more dramatic as the evening went on. And Jemaine wasn't sure he liked the awestruck way Bret was looking at Dave.

"It was nothing," said Dave with false humility, "Nobody talks shit about my boy, Bret."

Did Bret actually blush at that? This was ridiculous!

"So how big was he, this guy?" Jemaine asked sulkily

"Enormous. He was at least five foot eleven," said Bret in that stupid simpering voice.

Dave was taping up two of his fingers with sellotape and leaning against the wall with arrogant nonchalance. Stupid Dave, with his stupid cool American accent. Huh. Jemaine would have hit that guy if he'd been there. Or maybe thought mean thoughts about him. But still, it was hardly fair Dave getting all this attention, when Jemaine hadn't even had a chance.

"Six three. At least," said stupid Dave.

Jemaine wasn't sure why he was so annoyed by this. Possibly because no one called them Australian faggots more than Dave did, and yet here he was acting like he was a hero for punching someone else who called Bret one. He probably thought it was demarcation or something.

xxx

After Dave left, Bret still wouldn't stop talking about it.

"This guy just came up to me and said, 'Hey go back to Australia, you faggot!' and then Dave, he was wonderful Jemaine, Dave just hit him and kicked him in the knee and ran off. It was just like that one scene in Top Gun..."

Jemaine tuned out of Bret's enthusiastic monologue. This would all blow over by tomorrow. Right?

xxx

"All right band meeting. Bret?" Murray opened his note pad with unnecessary zeal

"Present"

"Excellent, Jemaine? Well I can see you're there. Now I heard that you went out with David to a bar last weekend, Bret?" Murray looked into Bret's eyes, concerned.

Why did he have to say it like that? It's not as though they went on a date

"I heard that there was some sort of an incident?" Murray's voice went up sharply on the last syllable,

"Jemaine, why weren't you there? You're supposed to look after each other," Murray scolded.

"Oh, it's all right, Murray. Dave saved me!" Bret said brightly, sitting up in his seat.

Jemaine groaned quietly.

"_Rea_lly?" Murray replied, hastily scribbling this down in his notes, "You know, I've always been fond of David. He has an excellent character."

"Maybe for a Noddy book," Jemaine muttered under his breath.

Bret gave him a sharp glare. Jemaine sullenly looked at the wall.

"Yeah," said Bret, looking back at Jemaine before continuing, "what happened was, we were at this club, and Jemaine wasn't with me, and there was this gigantic hell's angel-"

Murray let out a concerned "Goodness!" at this point

"-pushed me over and said that America was no place for Australian faggots-"

"Oh, did he not realise that you were from New Zealand? Is that what the problem was? You know, I'm writing a letter to their embassy about this. I cannot allow New Zealand citizens to be hassled in the streets because of Australia's international reputation"

"It wasn't in the streets though, Murray, they were in a night club," Jemaine said helpfully, "and I don't think that was his problem."

Jemaine received another death-glare from Bret.

"So anyway that's when Dave came-"

Jemaine sighed and fidgeted in his seat. By this retelling, Dave had probabley arrived in a fiery charger and lanced the guy off his Harley.

"I've got a dental appointment," he said standing up

Bret stopped midsentence and looked at him again. He wished that Bret wouldn't twist his mouth that way.

"I don't have anything written here about an appointment," said Murray, looking through his extensive paper trail

"I made it this morning, it just came through now on my blue tooth," Jemaine said flatly.

He had no idea what he was talking about, but he was fairly sure that Murray wouldn't pick up on it. He'd worry about Bret later. Without waiting any longer, he walked out of Murray's office and left the New Zealand consulate.

He kept walking, staring at his feet until he slowed and stopped. His feet had taken him to Dave's pawn shop. Traitors. Jemaine stared at the door for a second and went in.


	2. Chapter 2

Jemaine shuffled into Dave's shop and started looking at a small girl's bicycle intently. It had pom-poms on the handle bars.

Dave walked through the bead curtain, from the back and nodded at Jemaine casually.

"Hey. Where's Bret?"

Jemaine felt stupidly angry and frowned at Dave.

"He's with Murray. Why, do you need to rescue him or something?" he said through gritted teeth.

"I'm just asking, dude. Fucking relax! Did you guys have some kind of a fucking fight or something. I mean you're always together and now you're letting him go to bars on his own and leaving him alone with Murray... what did he do to you?" Dave asked, while stacking a set of second hand frisbees.

Jemaine's frown deepened and he glared at Dave.

"We're not fighting," he said, balling his hands into fists in his pockets, his finger nails biting into his palms.

"Well there's some kind of trouble in paradise," Dave went on obliviously, "Holy shit! You're jealous!" he exclaimed with rare insight.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about," Jemaine stammered unconvincingly

Dave nodded smugly.

"I fuckin' knew it," he said

"Yeah, well maybe a little bit," Jemaine admitted, "But just a little bit"

"Jemaine, if someone called you an Australian faggot, you know I'd hit them too," said Dave patting his shoulder.

Jemaine shrugged him off angrily

"I'm not jealous of _Bret_!" he said irritably, "It's just, he keeps going on and on about how great you are, like I'm not even there. It's just a bit annoying. I don't know why I said I was jealous, cause I'm not, I'm just annoyed."

Dave nodded again

"Dude, what I meant was, Bret's just my fuckin' friend. Well not my _fucking _friend, I'm not a fuckin' homo. He's my friend, you're my friend. Fuckers can't say shit about you cause you're _my _faggoty friends. But _you _and Bret... shit, that boy's in fuckin' love with you or some shit. He gets chicks now and then when he starts getting a bit too fuckin' frustrated and then _you _start getting jealous. You two are fucked up, you're like married _without _benefits. You might be happy to fuckin' hold his hand and shit, but he wants in your pands and he's not fuckin' waiting around for you forever."

Jemaine stared blankly at Dave while his pulse thundered in his ears and his guts made an escape attempt through the nearest orifice they could find. He opened his mouth to say something scathing, but he was momentarily struck dumb. By how stupid what Dave was saying. Stupid and wrong and not in the least bit convincing. Dave was looking at him intently.

"You know, I thought you two were already fucking when I met you? Took me by fuckin' surprise when Bret started going out with that Coco chick," at the mention of Yoko, Jemaine felt his chest tighten, "but then you started going on dates with them? Jesus, why is it taking you two so fuckin' long to connect the dots. He likes you, you like him. It's fairly fuckin' simple"

Jemaine shook his head nervously and swallowed several times.

"No... we're not... you've got it completely... that's not true," he mumbled almost incomprehensibly.

"You're not fooling anyone, you know," said Dave calmly.

That hurt, coming from this-is-definitely-not-my-mother Dave. But it was just ridiculous! Bret was just his friend that he lived with and made music with and cooked for and went on dates with sometimes and oh shit Dave was right. Somehow, going on dates with Bret and his girl of the month had never struck him as a bit gay before now.

He'd often thought that it would be better if neither of them ever got girlfriends, like Murray said, and just hung out and wrote songs together. He loved living with Bret and being with him all the time. He was just so easy to like, with his animal jumpers and his smiley face. And his hair and eyes and the way his jeans fitted him when he bent over to pick something up. Was that a bit gay? He'd never questioned it before.

And when Bret had a new girlfriend, he'd get so jealous of her for stealing him away, and all he would be able to think about would be the two of them having sex. Which would get him half hard and he'd have to think about gardening programmes until it went away.

Dave took in his blushing face and patted him on the shoulder again, more gently.

"Don't worry I won't tell him. But you should, you New Zealand faggot," he said

"New Zealand," Jemaine said automatically, before looking at Dave puzzled, who shrugged.

"Process of elimination, I was bound to get it eventually," he smiled, "Do me a favour and go and make out with your secret boyfriend. The fuckin' sexual tension between you two is going to fucking turn me into a chick, with all this fuckin' oestrogen floating around."

Jemaine blushed and nodded, before leaving the shop hurriedly.


	3. Chapter 3

The door flew open and a wild eyed Jemaine burst in, before turning around and closing the door sheepishly. Bret looked at him in mild disbelief.

"Since when do you have secret dentist appointments you don't tell me about?" he asked angrily, "And have you been seeing another dentist? I called up Dr. Benz's secretary and she said that you weren't due for another check up for six months."

Jemaine looked at Bret with an unreadable expression.

"I wasn't at the dentist's," he admitted quietly.

"Why did you leave me alone with Murray then? I had to spend forty five minutes with him inventing an imaginary abscess to cover for you. And umf!"

Jemaine had walked towards him, covering the distance in a few long strides, and crushed Bret's lips to his own. He cupped Bret's face gently and stroked his cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs. Bret couldn't move, he was frozen in place.

Jemaine dropped his hands and stepped away from him with a mumbled, "sorry." Bret launched himself at Jemaine suddenly, kissing him hard on the mouth. He broke the kiss and stood close, his face centimetres from Jemaine's, with his eyes screwed shut. Jemaine could feel every one of his shaky breaths against his lips.

He leaned forward and kissed Bret again softly, running the tip of his tongue along Bret's lower lip. Bret opened his mouth to allow the kiss to deepen. Jemaine moaned into his mouth and the sound made Bret's knees buckle. Jemaine's arms were suddenly around him holding him upright against his body. The contact made both of them gasp slightly.

They stayed like this, propping each other up and kissing, for several minutes, before they broke apart from each other softly. Bret rested his forehead against Jemaine's shoulder and Jemaine petted his hair while they breathed heavily and went over what had just happened in their heads.

"You kissed me," Jemaine said softly.

"You started it," Bret protested weakly.

"Dave said that I should," Jemaine said.

"What?" Bret turned his face from the crook of Jemaine's neck to look him in the eye.

Jemaine blushed and looked away before replying.

"I was jealous of you talking about him, so I went to see him. I'm not sure how that worked out in my head exactly, but it seemed quite sensible at the time. He said that you wanted me to kiss you."

This was almost true, Jemaine didn't feel comfortable telling Bret what Dave had really said, just yet.

Bret looked at him and gently laid his hand against Jemaine's face. His eyes were so wide and sparkly, like a baby seal. Or a giraffe. Jemaine stopped thinking up animal similes when Bret pressed his soft lips to his again.

"It. Was always. You," said Bret, punctuating his words with kisses.

"I know that this is something that I should really be saying later on, when we've been doing this for at least a few weeks, but I love you," Jemaine said around Bret's mouth.

Bret purred and slipped his tongue into Jemaine's open mouth. It was strange and new and wonderful. Why hadn't they done this ages ago?

"I love you so much," Bret whispered against his lips, "I want you so bad."

Ah, this was where Jemaine's brain ran into trouble and all of a sudden he felt fourteen years old, all over again. He knew that he wanted to do _something_ and that he wanted to do whatever it was very badly. But, he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was.

Bumming. How did that work? Did they take turns at being the bummer and bumee, or did they have to do it the same way each time. Then there was the question of blowjobs... he knew how to receive one, but the thought of giving one just confused him. He wished he'd paid more attention to the mechanics of it in the past, instead of just selfishly enjoying the results that they yielded.

"I want to... but I don't know what to do," Jemaine admitted shamefacedly, "Can we do some research first?"

Bret broke away from him anxiously.

"Do you want to stop?" he asked.

Jemaine looked at that face and he just couldn't bring himself to say yes.

"Just... slowly," he said awkwardly.

Bret nodded seriously and started to take off Jemaine's shirt.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

Jemaine received no answer and his shirt was thrown unceremoniously on the ground. Bret pulled his own t-shirt over his head and started to kick off his shoes and socks. Jemaine fumbled with the flies of his jeans and pulled them off clumsily and then tripped over his shoes. Bret looked at him and laughed gently.

"I didn't think you really did that," he smiled and kissed Jemaine again.

"Yeah, well..." Jemaine started mumbling incomprehensibly while staring at the ground.

Bret kissed him and the world slowly slipped away.


End file.
